St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1887-11-04
A PRISONER OF LOVE.
p'S awelI, what is the truest theneY

what woman like her need know of
sorrow, and he says as much.
at would not interest you to know
what trouble may have had. Mr.. Car
rick" she says, coldly. Every one has
some troubles, and they only increase
by repetition; besides, ones cOnfidant is
always more or less bored, though pO-
likeness may keep back all signs of
WEAKNESS"
Philip looks at her in wonder. Her
eyes are dark with grief, passion, re-
gret. What is it? She puzzles him eX-
ceedingly. Never in his thirty years of
women of every land, has he met one
who so thoroughly interests and mysti-
fies him as this one.
They are in boat; the weather is
perfect. Philip thinks he would be
perfectly happy if he knew that this
girl cared one iOta for him; and this he
does not seem likely to learn speedily,
for she is armed with arrows of sar-
casm, which she uses occasionally, and
is encaSed in an armOr of indifference,
which he has not yet been able to pene-
trate.
Presently he remarks, reading her
name in the volume of ''Tennyson" ly-
ing on the seat close beside him,
"Orna''-what pretty name?"
do you think sou she asks. at has
always worried me, fearing people
would think it an abbreviation for Or
nameDt.'"
They are floating along in shallow
water near the shore, and Miss Holme
reaches out and gathers the lily leaves
that lie all around them; it is too late in
the season for flowers.
GLOW beautiful she ISL Philip thinks,
watching the little white hands as she
gathers the wet leaves
She is pale and calm, intent on her
occupation. She seems almost ObliviOuS
of the man who, resting on his oars, sits
watching her.
1t is an entirely new experience for
Philip Carrick. Hitherto he has been
sought after, tlattered and made much
of by the bellies of society, but here, in
this little Essex village. he has met a
lady who is utterly Indifferent to him,
and, man like, having found a woman
who does not care for him. he proceeds
straightway to fall in love with her.
He has not known Miss Holme long,
and of her family and past history he
knows nothing. He has come to this
headquarters while he spends a few
weeks in hunting and fishing. He has
engaged rooms at private house, and
has there met Orna HOlme. She teaches
little country school a mile from her
lodging.
So they have been together more OF
less for some time; but Orna's vacation
is drawing to a close. and this golden
September day is one of the last which
they can have all to themselves.
Don't you dread going back to drill
A b C'S into the heads of those young
savages?" Philip asks.
Certainly not; like to teach Fur
there, | teach in order to get certain
amount of money with which to pur-
chase things essential to the comfort of
a lady OF the nineteenth century"
Philip makes no reply. but he wishes
he had not asked the question. She
can certainly he very explicit when she
chooses.
Presently Miss HOlme glances at her
watch. As she does SO, diamonds flash
in the sun.
1T is nearly tea-time. Mr.. .CaIrick,"
she says, "Shall we returnP'
Il think L should like to drift this
way fOrever,"he says.
.'Oh, no, you wouldn't she returns
"There is dam two miles below here,
and. if you undertook to drift ever as
we are drifting now you might drift into
eternity"
Philip is too provoked to reply. Miss
HOlme either takes his words too liter
ally or twists them into something he
does not mean; she seems determined not
to understand, and he rows back almost
in silence.
II am going to town tomorrow" he
says to. his hostess. Mrs. Dean: "a
Na,.ftr Of frin dc ifl mn N
tie place called Nauseau, i'm Italy,. to
join them there and 90 to Lake Como"
1--WE shall miss you," Mrs. Dean re-
plies.
He glanceS across to Miss IIolme: she
is spreading jelly on bread for young
Dean. and for aught he can tell las not
heard a word. Without doubt this
country SchOolteacher, with her high
bred face. her diamond watch, and her
supreme indifference to Mr.. Carrick, is
a new sensation to that gentleman.
Later in the evening they are sitting
with others in the parlOr. Miss Holme,
rising. says: Good night, Mr.. Carrick;
as you go early in the morning [ shall
not see you again."
There were people looking on: he
had meant to have had different part
ing. but she has willed otherwise: he
"Gcod-bye," the words half choking
him, and she is gone.
A week later she is back in her old
place, teaching score of yellow-haired
children. She is more lovely than ever,
more bitter than ever; she has rot done
right. she is not doing right; how can
she be happy?
y =
Alfred Crosby and Philip Carrick are
sitting by the lake. Alfred and Philip
are old friends.
Alfred breaks the silence by remark
ing: 1T strikes me. Phil, that this trip
has not benefited you: you are pale and
thin; you look as if you had the dyspep-
STA, or were in love. Honor bright, old
fellow, did you fall in love while out of
my sight?'
Suppose 1 did, what then?" asks
Philip.
But who on earth could you have
met here to captiyate you? Was it a
daughter of that noble gypsy, or Nor
wegian girl? They are about all the
women Eve seen since l started on this
trip
''Oh, quit your nonsense ~ replies
Philip. Il stayed a month at Stony
Point before coming here, if you choose
to remember"
But, my dear boy, there was nobody
there"
''On the contrary. there were many
nice people there. among them a Miss
Holme, who was exceptionally NICE"
''Oh. the mischief" springing off his
feet. ''What does she look like? De-
scribe her."
Mr.. Carrick wonders if any one can
do that adequately, but he says: "She
is slender and petite, has the smallest
hands ever saw. great gray eyes.
chestnut hair and the coolest. haughtiest
manner ever observed. She Is Ger
tainly out of her element She is teach
ing country school,
WELL" remarks Alfred, ibid she
wear any jewelry-anytiiing noticeable,
| mean?"